A Tent With a View
by Oracle Obscured
Summary: Hermione sees more than she bargained for while on the run in their 7th year. (HG/RW)


A/N: This story contains sexual situations. You have been warned. Also, while this is a Ron/Hermione story, Hermione does watch Harry and think about him sexually (albeit in an innocently curious manner). Nothing happens between Harry and Hermione, and the story is actually my most cannon compliant to date.

* * *

I know, I'm a horrible person. We're in constant danger. We could die any second. I shouldn't be watching my best friends change every night like a peeping tom. It's utterly perverse. They think I'm asleep. I'm basically lying to them every night that I lie here not saying anything. The guilt is eating me alive. But every night it happens again, and I can't bring myself to say anything. What would they think of me if they knew?

Honestly, the first time it was an accident. I really was asleep. Then I wasn't. Just like that. I have no idea what woke me, but when I opened my eyes, Ron was changing his clothes. He only had on a faded pair of Chudley Cannons boxers. It's not as though I haven't seen guys in their underwear. I stay at the Burrow almost every year, and I've seen more than one Weasley dashing about the halls in various states of undress. It's no different than seeing a boy at the beach in his bathing suit. But this time was different. Ron and I have kissed (amongst other things), but I'd never seen him in his shorts before. It was a little disconcerting to say the least.

It got a lot more disconcerting when he took them off. I've never seen a naked man in the flesh before. I've seen pictures in books, and statues and all, but not a living breathing person. Up close. I almost said something right then, but I couldn't get my voice to work. After that it was too late.

I always thought boys looked a bit ridiculous naked, but this changed my mind. He was breathtaking. I could hear Harry pacing around outside the tent, keeping watch; so with me being "asleep," Ron obviously thought he was unobserved. He rubbed at his balls as though they itched then got out a clean pair of shorts from his pack. I couldn't look away. His pubic hair was dark red, like a flame highlighting his penis. He pulled on the clean shorts and then a clean t-shirt. I have to admit, I was disappointed. I wanted to see more.

I got my wish two nights later. Feigning sleep, I heard Harry and Ron muttering as they switched places as lookout. Ron came in and whispered to Harry that he couldn't stay awake much longer. Harry checked his watch and said it was time to switch anyway and that Ron should get some rest. They were already whispering, but Ron got even quieter and said, "Sleeping isn't easy with Hermione just a foot away." Harry laughed softly and said, "I bet she wouldn't object if you got closer. It is cold." Through my slitted lids, I could see them glance over at me. Ron shook his head, smiling. "I don't think she'd appreciate what it does to me." Harry just laughed again and went outside, zipping the flap behind him.

Ron changed his clothes just like before. Except this time when he took off his boxers, he was hard. I'd heard stories from other girls, but it didn't really prepare me for what I saw. I have nothing to compare him to size-wise, but it made me nervous. How would he ever fit inside me? I know I'm supposed to stretch, I mean babies come out there, but it seemed as though it would be painful. He got dressed again but didn't "put himself away." He got into bed next to me, and I had to close my eyes so he wouldn't suspect I'd been watching. I could hear the soft rustle of his hand under the blanket and realized he was touching himself. Sweet circe! It was the sexiest thing I've ever heard. He was so bloody quiet. His breathing got a little heavier, and when he climaxed he made a small sound but that was all. I guess boys get a lot of practice keeping quiet in a dorm full of other boys. I heard him whisper a cleansing charm, and that was it. He was asleep in five minutes.

I've never wanted to shove my hand down my knickers more. I know everyone thinks I never touch myself, but that's not true. I just don't discuss it like Lavender and Parvati. Anyway, three nights later I saw Harry. Ron was outside; I could see his outline through the tent. Harry rummaged around in his bag and pulled out some fresh clothes. I use the word fresh lightly. Harry and Ron seem incapable of folding anything, so after I do what I can to clean their clothes, they just shove them back in their bags. They always look rumpled, as if they've been sleeping in their clothes for weeks even though I just cleaned them.

I felt far more guilty about watching Harry. Ron's my boyfriend, I'm supposed to want to see him naked; but Harry's my friend, which just makes me a pervert. Harry's not as lanky as Ron, but he's still too thin. He doesn't eat enough, and years with the Dursleys left him undernourished. I want to go over and hug him and shove a chicken leg in his mouth (oh God, I'm turning in to Mrs. Weasley). I'll have to get us some better food next time we're near a town.

Harry was not hard (this time), but I got a good look at the rest of him. True to his name, he's harrier than Ron. I could see the dark line on his belly, trailing down to his pubic bone. I wonder what it feels like? Does everyone's pubic hair feel the same, or do red-heads and blondes and brunettes feel different? He put on a clean pair of shorts then rubbed at his balls as if he was adjusting himself. Do all guys touch themselves when they change? I don't pet my vulva every time I put on clean knickers. Maybe it's different with dangly bits.

The next morning I saw a whole lot more. When I went to relieve Harry as lookout, I found him in the forest a little ways with his back to me. He didn't hear me, and I'm glad. I wouldn't have known what to say. He was leaning sideways against a tree, quietly wanking. His hand was kind of in the way, so I couldn't see him like I'd seen Ron; but it was incredibly sexy. I slipped behind the nearest tree so he wouldn't spot me. He went on for a couple of minutes, and then I heard him mutter something, and he ejaculated. I was close enough to see his semen hit the ground. He cleaned himself and vanished the evidence. (I doubt we could be tracked by it, but better safe than sorry.) When he started walking away, I followed from a distance until the tree he'd been standing by was out of sight, then I called out to him as if I'd just found him. He looked a little guilty but covered it up well. I've never masturbated al fresco before. My curiosity is piqued.

I've let it go on for a month now. I've seen them both naked, hard, and wanking many times over. I feel as though I should say something, but how does one confess such a thing? I'm horny all the time now. Scared and horny. What a combination.

* * *

Ron's changing right now. I can hear Harry muttering to himself outside. Ron looks over to check that I'm asleep. My eyes fall closed. When I hear him taking off his clothes again, I peek through my lashes. No wonder he's checking that I'm asleep; he's hard as a rock. His penis is perpendicular to his pelvis. (Perpen- _dick_ -ular. Oh God . . . that is NOT funny. I've been hanging around teenage boys too long.) He puts on his clean clothes but leaves his erection sticking out of his open trousers and gets under the blanket next to me. He uses his wand to put out all the candles but one (so Harry can see when he comes in). It's even darker now. Safe. I open my eyes all the way. There's a soft rustle and then the rhythmic sound of his hand. Reaching out, I make contact with his torso. He freezes.

"Hermione?" he squeaks.

"Yes?" I slip my hand lower, touching the side of his open fly.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough."

"What are you doing?"

"Touching you. Should I stop?"

"No! I mean . . . uh . . . I'm okay with it if you are."

His hand slips away, and I bump into the tip of his penis. He gasps. I get bolder and explore, running my fingers up and down his length, feeling what I've only seen. It's hotter than I thought it would be, like bread fresh from the oven. The head has more give than expected; it's nice. Smooth. The skin on his shaft moves easily under my hand; I shift it up and down experimentally a few times. His breathing is getting heavier. I sit up so I can use my right hand.

"Show me how you like it, Ron."

He audibly swallows. "Really?"

"Yes."

"All right then."

His hand comes back and covers mine, wrapping my fingers around him. He moves our hands up and down together. The grip is tighter than I would have done on my own. He's getting faster.

"I'm gonna come, Hermione. Do you want to stop?"

"No."

"Fucking hell."

I feel a pulsing and then my fingers are wet. I wish I could see better. His breathing is ragged. When he releases my hand, I lift it to my lips and taste the drop of semen smearing my thumb. Parvati was right: it's salty. Not terrible, but not totally pleasant either. Lavender says you can't taste it if he comes down your throat. I wonder if that's true.

"Oh my God. Did you just lick your finger?"

Was that bad? "Yes?"

"Merlin's balls," he whispers. "You're bloody amazing, you know that?"

Oh good. I'm not gross. On the contrary, I'm amazing. I hear him mutter a cleaning charm.

"Here," he says, finding my hand in the dark. "Let me get that."

The wetness vanishes, and my hand is no longer sticky. "Thanks."

"No, no," he laughs. "Thank you. Do I get to touch you now?"

I lie down and find his face with my hands. As I kiss him, he pulls me closer, teasing me with his tongue. His technique has improved since I showed him what I liked. I wonder if sex will be the same.

"I want you to touch me, but I'm scared," I admit in a whisper.

"Of what?"

"I'm not sure."

He's quiet for several long seconds. "I promise I'll be really nice."

I can't help laughing. "Well . . . I suppose. But . . . you'll stop if I ask, right?"

"Of course."

His hands are already unfastening my jeans. He gets them open and then places his palm over the front of my knickers, feeling me through the thin cotton. True to his word, he is very nice. Almost reverent. He growls, frustrated by my jeans. I push them down to my knees, and he kisses me again. While his tongue is slowly rubbing against mine, he slips past my knicker elastic and runs his fingers through my pubic hair until he gets to my labia. When he finds me wet, he moans into my mouth. Going lower, he touches my entrance. His fingertip sinks in a little then slides back up toward my clitoris.

"You better show me what to do. I can't see."

I hold his hand like he held mine, and take him to the place I like. Rubbing his finger lightly over it, I sigh. "Feel that?"

"Yeah."

"Keep rubbing it like that."

"Okay."

His finger is rougher than mine. I fancy it. It's totally different having someone else do this.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No."

"You seem kind of tense."

"I'm nervous."

"About what?"

"Everything."

"Do you mean the Horcruxes or what we're doing now?"

"Everything."

"Should I stop?"

"No, I like it. It's nice."

"Will you come?"

"Maybe if you do it long enough."

"I'm not in a hurry. Charlie told me it takes girls longer."

"What else did Charlie say?" I can't keep still any more. My hips are getting anxious.

I swear I can hear him smile. "He said to lick it till you scream."

I can't believe Ron just said that. The thought of him licking me down there is incredibly embarrassing. And sexy. Oh great. Now I'm giggling. I can't stop thinking about his tongue between my legs.

"What's so funny?"

"What else did he say?"

"Lots of things."

"Like what?"

He kisses my cheek then my lips. "He said I have to make sure you're relaxed."

"What else?"

"I can show you if you let me."

I'm nervous . . . but excited. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Let's take off your jeans then."

We work together, and I'm left naked from the waist down (except for my three pairs of socks). Ron scoots lower and slides his hands up under my jumper. I've got on a flannel shirt and a t-shirt under that. His hands are warm. He cups my breasts and circles around my nipples, just grazing them accidentally. It makes me shiver.

"Are you too cold?" he asks, sounding worried.

"No."

"Good," he smiles and pushes my clothes up above my bra. I know he can't see much, but I blush anyway. His breath breezes over my skin, and I feel his mouth moving between my breasts, kissing me. He pulls down my cups and puts his lips on my right nipple. It sends a jolt all the way down to my clitoris. I realize I'm humping his leg like a dog. How embarrassing.

"Why'd you stop?" he pants into my skin.

"I . . . I felt . . . I don't know. Ridiculous."

He sucks my nipple into his mouth. Warmth spreads through me.

"I was enjoying it," he murmurs.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

I feel a burst of warm air as he laughs against my chest. "Hermione, you are the sexiest thing I have ever seen…and I can barely see you. You're driving me mad."

I know he means it. He has trouble lying when he's turned on. I can feel the truth jabbing me in the thigh. His lips find my other breast, and I roll my hips against him. He licks and sucks and pinches at my nipples until I can't keep quiet. He's kissing my face again and muttering, "Shh, you don't want Harry to hear, do you?" Oh, Merlin! I forgot about Harry.

Ron slides back down my body, but this time he goes lower, kissing his way down my belly. When he gets to my sex, I can barely keep still. Holding down my hips, he plants little kisses all around my pelvis. I'm going to melt. It's so bloody soft. His mouth touches me, and I feel his tongue snake out, licking me open. It's like nothing I've ever felt. It starts out like a tickle, but the more he does it, the more I don't want him to stop.

"You taste so good, Hermione."

"I do?"

"Gods, yes."

I relax more. My brain is turning into porridge (which is much more pleasant than you'd imagine). He keeps licking and licking. If he put this much effort and time into his schoolwork, he'd be a straight O student. I feel one finger slip inside me. Deep inside. It's so strange, but in a good way. His fingers are long, and he's touching parts of me I can't even reach. I pet his head while he works.

"Is this still all right?" he asks. The words vibrate through me.

"Yes. Please don't stop."

"Not for a hundred gallons," he mutters and dives back in.

He adds another finger and the stretch is nice. He's still being really gentle, and I'm no longer worried about him hurting me. He's about as far from hurting as you can get. I'm falling deeper into mindlessness. You never notice how much you think until you stop. His tongue is a soft steady heartbeat on my clitoris. I can feel the ball of tension rolling bigger and tighter inside me.

"I'm so close," I whisper, "Please don't stop."

He doesn't. He just murmurs "mmm mm" against me in response. It's getting harder to breathe. My hands fall to my nipples, and I pinch them just like Ron did. The cold has left them hard, and it feels as though they're going to break off when I squeeze. The tension peaks, and I have to cover my mouth with my arm so Harry won't hear me moaning as I explode. My muscles contract and pulse around Ron's fingers. I'm floating, bucking against his face. He's doing an admirable job of holding me down with one arm.

When it's over, I throw my elbow off my face so I can breathe. Glancing down, I find him looking up at me, licking me clean. His hair feels so soft in my fingers. "Kiss me," I pant.

He smiles and kisses my labia.

Laughing, I pull on his face. "Not there."

Ron climbs up and kisses me for real. I can taste myself on him. He's right, it tastes good. I wish we could stay like this forever. He pulls away so I can breathe.

I can't stop smiling. "I don't know what Charlie told you, but remind me to thank him next time I see him."

His smile shines in the semi-darkness. "Don't I get any credit?"

"Definitely," I laugh. "I'd like to show my appreciation right now." I run my hand down, feeling his erection through his boxers.

He jerks against my hand and groans. "Bloody hell."

"Do you want me to?"

"Merlin's balls, yes!"

"Good. Take off your trousers."

He's out of them before I can count to five. I scoot down so I'm level with his hips. When I run my hand over his length, he shivers and makes a strangled noise in his throat. This is kind of fun. Leaning in, I kiss his penis; it twitches up toward me and Ron groans. If he liked that, he going to love this. My tongue licks a wavy line along the underside.

"Fuck," he mutters.

I don't normally approve of such language, but it's different in bed. A compliment. I lick around the head, and he gets louder.

"You have to tell me what to do," I whisper. "I don't have the benefit of a Charlie for instruction."

"Just keep doing what you're doing," he says, swallowing hard. "I'll tell you when I can't take any more."

I go back to licking him, covering every inch. He's hot against my tongue, and I taste salty liquid when I get to the tip. He's so hard, it's like licking warm marble.

"Okay, I can't take any more," he gasps. "Please put it in your mouth."

This is the part I'm nervous about. I've only got Lavender and Parvati's word to go on; I don't know how reliable their information is. Keeping my lips over my teeth (that suggestion seems logical), I slide him into my mouth. I'm too scared to let it get near my throat. Lav says you just have to keep relaxed, but I don't think that's possible right now.

"Oh my God, yes," Ron whispers.

I guess I'm doing it right. After pulling up to the top, I sink down again.

"God that's good. Use your hand on what you can't reach."

Wrapping my fingers around him like before, I follow my mouth. It's getting less scary. I just have to remember to breathe through my nose when I lift up. I try to look at him, but I can't see much, just his outline and the shine of his eyes.

"Yeah, that's it," he mutters. His hands are in my hair. I'm afraid he's going to force my head closer, but he doesn't. He just strokes at my scalp. It's relaxing.

"Move your tongue around."

I add my tongue, and his hips roll against the bed.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he whispers. "Just like that."

There seems to be a steady stream of saltiness in my mouth now. I think that means he's close. My jaw is starting to ache, but I don't want to stop. I want to make him climax and make him feel the way he made me feel.

"Hermione, I going to come soon." His breathing sounds shaky. "If you don't stop, I'm gonna come in your mouth."

I think I can handle it. I murmur "Okay" around him and feel him pulse under my fingers. My mouth is filled, and I swallow as fast as I can. He's trying to be quiet, but a breathy grunt slips out. He finally goes still, panting in recovery.

"Come up here," he whispers.

I lay my head against his chest and listen to his heart race.

"That was bloody brilliant," he sighs, wrapping his arms around me.

"Honestly?"

His chest shakes as he laughs. "Hermione, that might be the best thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life."

I smile. This is nice. We're both bare from the waist down, and I wonder what it would be like to sleep naked with him. He pulls the blanket around us to keep out the cold. I climb higher and kiss him again. He hesitates, and I realize he doesn't want to taste his own semen. I shove my tongue in his mouth. If I can eat it, so can he. In five seconds his reluctance is gone and he's snogging me like there's no tomorrow. His hands are all over my bum. He's never had this much access before. I fancy it as well.

Out of breath, I pull back. "We better get dressed."

He sighs and nods. "Right."

I find my jeans and knickers, but I keep getting tangled in them. I climb out over Ron and sort them out. Just as I'm about to pull up my knickers, I hear Harry's voice behind me.

"Whoa. Sorry, I'll just . . ."

I yank up my clothes fast. My face is burning. Apparently I'm more voyeur than exhibitionist.

"S'not your fault, Harry," I mumble.

"I just came in to get warm. If you two are busy, I'll . . ."

"We're just . . . going to sleep," I finish lamely. "Stay. It's freezing out."

"I'm really sorry, Hermione."

"Don't be silly. We're sharing a tent. We were bound to see one another sooner or later." Am I just trying to make excuses for my own peeking?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course."

Harry pulls off his gloves then sits down to pry off his boots. "Honestly, I thought you two were asleep an hour ago."

I climb back in next to Ron and hold his hand under the blanket.

Ron starts laughing, and I can see him watching me in the dark. "Hermione couldn't sleep. She's been keeping me up."

Ha ha. I slap his chest through the blanket.

Harry snorts. "I'll bet."

"Come to bed, Harry," I say. "It's too cold to keep watch outside."

I feel bad that Harry is alone, what with Ginny so far away. I know he feels like a third wheel sometimes.

Us being in the same bed isn't as pervy as it sounds. We just get warm and sleep. But the closeness makes me calmer. I'm always in the middle, and it's one of the few times I'm actually not freezing.

He must be really cold, because he doesn't argue with me. He settles in between me and the tent wall. Snuggling closer to Ron, I lay my head on his shoulder. Ron turns and kisses my forehead, and I squeeze his hand. Reaching back, I pull Harry closer. He turns towards me and curls into my back. I know exactly how he's sleeping even without looking. His hands are tucked into his armpits to keep them warm, and his face is turned up to keep his glasses from digging into his nose. Ron always sleeps with one leg bent and one straight, one arm thrown over his head.

I stroke Ron's hand with my thumb until he's breathing deeply. The tent is quiet. I feel as though I have to enjoy every moment of peace. It could all come crashing down around us any second. Closing my eyes, I start to drift off. My dreams are filled with both red and black: Ron making love to me, Harry pressed to my back, rubbing against my bum. I'm glad neither one of them is skilled at Legillimency. My brain can't be explained sometimes.


End file.
